


Carrots and Lace

by RipplesOfAqua



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Flowers, Fluff, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipplesOfAqua/pseuds/RipplesOfAqua
Summary: Scout Harding receives a basket of flowers for her service to the Inquisition, but ends up with something far better.Written for the 2018 Children of the Stone Exchange.





	Carrots and Lace

There is a tinge of animus in the Spymaster’s eyes and, not for the first time, Harding thinks Sister Leliana might just want her dead. She’s not sure why exactly, but she has been giving Harding the strangest of looks ever since the Halamshiral Ball.

Surely she hadn’t danced _that_ badly?

Harding shifts under Leliana’s silent gaze, and as the moment draws on, she comforts herself with the thought that there are worse ways to die. Still, she’d prefer to make it through this unexpected summons in one piece.

“Ambassador Montilyet wishes to speak with you,” Leliana says at last, her voice soft and cool. “Know that she has been dealing with Compte Jacquard’s men all morning”–her eyes narrow and she places a firm hand on Harding’s shoulder–“it would be most… _unwise_ to keep her longer than is necessary.”

Harding gulps, nodding her assent, but Leliana does not move. “Well, wouldn’t want to keep the Ambassador waiting…” she offers hesitantly, shrugging Leliana’s hand off as she begins inching for the door, “I’ll just be on my way then?”

The Spymaster stares for one last long moment, before giving a sharp, wordless nod and returns to her work. Harding flies down the stairs and makes her way to Josephine’s office, eager to follow the Nightingale’s orders and avoid future unpleasantness.

And if her heart beats faster at the thought of talking to Josephine, she can always blame it on the exercise.

She finds the Ambassador’s door is ajar, angry voices coming from within. Peeking inside, Harding sees a handful of perturbed diplomats swarming Josephine’s desk,  speaking in fast, clipped Orlesian. She cannot make out many of their words, but the slight crease in the Ambassador’s forehead indicates things are not proceeding well.  

Not that she’s spent any time studying Josephine’s expressions before today...

But she _is_ here on official Inquisition business, technically, so she raps loudly on the door and steps inside.

Josephine looks up and their eyes meet. “Ah, but you are here already!” she exclaims, her face brightening, “forgive me gentlemen, but I have some important business I must discuss. _Privately_.”

They give Harding a dismissive glance and continue their tirade in Orlesian, making no move to leave.

Harding feels indignation burn in her chest, so she straightens her posture, plants her hands on her hips and marches forward. “Excuse me, Messrs, but as the Ambassador declared, this is urgent,” she says with the same tone she uses for ordering new recruits, “It would be such a _shame_ if the Inquisitor were angered by a delay…”

The men glance at each other, unsure whether the risk of an angry Herald is worth the chance to press their suit further. Seizing the opening, Josephine pushes them towards the door. “I will contact you when we have made our decision, gentleman,” and with that they are dismissed.

With a happy sigh, Josephine glances at Harding and gestures for her to take a seat. “I thought they’d never leave! Please”–she pushes a tray of candied nuts across the desk–“for my knight in shining armor.”

Harding’s cheeks turn rosy as she convinces herself that she did _not_ just witness the Ambassador wink. “Oh that’s nothing, Lady Josephine,” she manages, “after all, who wouldn’t dream of rescuing a beautiful lady from… er, not that you _need_ rescuing, obviously. I only meant—“

She is saved from embarrassment by a gentle hand over hers, and she looks up to see the Ambassador’s eyes twinkle with humor. Josephine pushes the tray towards her once more, and recognizing the chance for a tactical retreat, Harding takes a handful of the sweets – she cannot talk while she chews, after all, and her sudden urge to giggle indicates that silence is perhaps the better strategy.

Josephine takes pity on her, and walks over to the windowsill, allowing Harding some time to compose herself. She returns carrying a large basket of flowers, and places it on the table. “These are for you – a token of… appreciation. You have done so much for me, for the Inquisition.”

Harding beams, leaning forward to identify the blooms – delicate blue sweet peas for gratitude and fond farewells, brilliant copper marigolds for newfound warmth, ruffled pink peonies for shy affection (her ears must be a red as her cheeks now!), and –

_Maker’s balls!_

Harding jerks back into her chair and claps her hand over her nose. Josephine frowns, and Harding belatedly attempts to disguise the action with a cough. There, at the center of the bouquet, is her old nemesis – the wild carrot. Oh, it is a beautiful flower to be sure, with delicate clusters of tiny white flowers branching from a deep purple center - if perhaps an unusual choice for a bouquet.

The tip of her nose prickles at the sight of it. 

“I am so glad for a chance to sit with you, Scout Harding,” Josephine says, “especially since Leliana tells me you are due to ride out for the Hissing Wastes any day now.”

“Yeah, nothing but sand and sun for weeks,” Harding replies, unable to decide whether she is more preoccupied with the way Josephine’s eyes reflect the colors of the bouquet or the burning tickle making its way up her nose. Josephine does not appear to notice her discomfort, however, and Harding sends a brief prayer of thanks to the Maker. There’s nothing less romantic than allergies, after all.

Of course she has no romantic intentions _now_ – none whatsoever! But if the chance were to present itself…

“I cannot express how valuable your dance lessons proved for our agents. And you danced so very well at the ball, despite your injury.” Josephine’s face is heartbreakingly earnest, though she ducks her head before continuing. “I regret I was not able to join you myself.”

Tears sting in Harding’s eyes, but she forces them back, focusing instead on the glow building within her chest. “I doubt you need lessons, my lady, but I would be glad for someone to practice with.” Now it is her turn to reach for Josephine’s hands, but then the prickle grows worse and—

_A-CHOO!_

With a loud crash, the world spins around her and everything goes dark.

Harding finds herself on the floor, sprawled beneath the chair and half buried under the ruins of her flowers. She groans and spits out a leaf. Blinking back dirt, she wishes she could fall straight through the floor and flee this humiliation.

But then she feels gentle hands lifting under her shoulders and finds her head cushioned by the softest pillow she has ever known. A soft cloth caresses her skin, wiping away the mud on her cheeks. Slowly, her eyes clear and she find Josephine's worried face gazing down at her from above. A hazy, distant part of her mind registers that she is resting on Josephine's lap.

“Oh _mi querida_ , I am sorry! I did not think the Queen Anna’s Lace would affect you so. I forgot many Fereldans find it irritating, but with the name, I could not resist-”

“ _Lace?!_ ”

Josephine gazes at her knowingly, and Harding is suddenly glad she’s no longer standing, for her legs would certainly not support her now.

Josephine bends down to whisper in her ear. “What princess does not dream of rescuing a beautiful knight?”

That moment, Harding decides that perhaps the wild carrot may have some good qualities, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a few lines of dialogue Scout Harding says at Skyhold:
> 
> “Ambassador Montilyet sent me a basket of flowers to thank me for my work with the Inquisition. She’s so lovely.”
> 
> "Sister Leliana glanced at me today. I think she's going to have me killed."
> 
> And yes, Queen Anne's Lace is also know as the wild carrot. XD


End file.
